Like Water on Rock
by the object lesson
Summary: Later, Nico would describe this feeling. But then, in that infinite second, all he is capable of is the complete and all consuming panic of knowing your blood has stilled in your veins. He feels his heart struggle in his chest to move the fluid-turned-stone around it, and listens to his cells scream for oxygen, running out in three… two… one… Percy/Nico post-HoH


A/N: Writing about two guys sure lends itself to a lot of ambiguous pronouns... Best problem ever.

Not Beta'd. Only edited by me. If I ever continue it past a (long) one-shot, I'll probably have to get my shit together on that front... Percico-feels wait for no man (or, in this case, editor). Also, this is some subject matter that literally occurred to me on day 1 of PJO and I can't believe Rick actually addressed it, that wonderful, twisted man.

Enjoy!

Nico is sitting on the stone fireplace in the dining pavilion when he spotted Annabeth marching across the lawn.

He is immediately struck by the impression that she's been looking for him, probably because who else would she be looking for outside in the middle of the night? It's just after one o'clock, black except for the sparse torches and the flickering light from the dying fire. Hestia has long returned to the hearths of Olympus. All the other campers are asleep in their cabins, except him, because he doesn't sleep, and Annabeth, because…

"Nico…"

When he meets her eyes, his heart clenches. She has clearly been crying, though all that remains of the evidence was the incriminating redness and the swollen eyelids. Her pack is slung over her shoulder, though it isn't latched and doesn't look full, like she packed without much care as to what she was grabbing. Which is, of course, not possible.

"Annabeth? What are you doing out here? What's wrong?"

She just shakes her head, biting her lip, but her eyes remain dry. They are wide and bright, like a rabbit's. Nico realizes she's terrified.

"I can't… I can't help him. Nico-"

"Annabeth, what is it? Is Percy alright?"

"No." Her voice breaks, but he's seen enough fear to know, she is beyond crying. Without warning, she collapses onto him. Her hands cling to his jacket, her face presses to his chest. "No, he… he needs you, Nico. He won't talk to me, he knows I'm, that I'm too… he needs you. Help him."

Nico lifts his arms towards her, to do what, he isn't sure, but she is already backing away. She doesn't run, probably because she knows he won't chase her, but she holds his gaze for a few more heartbeats before turning and disappearing into the night.

Nico would like to say he went straight to Percy, forced him to talk, but he didn't. He sat by the fading coals for most of the night until he couldn't stand it, finally wandering towards the green light of the Hades cabin and collapsing onto his bunk, staring at the stone ceiling. He knoww Percy wasn't in any mortal danger, he'd be able to feel it, but every time he thinks about going to him, he wants to be sick. Percy doesn't _need_him. He needs Annabeth, to breathe, to tie his shoes, to wrap his arms around at the campfire, to spend the rest of his life…

Yeah, sick.

Nico can't think of anything Percy has ever needed him for, except occasional creepy ideas about how to defeat immortal titans using undead armies and lethal rivers. And since they'd laid waste to Gaia, Nico had barely been out the Underworld. There'd been too much to do below, and since the last battle, Nico hasn't been too anxious to speak to anyone.

He hasn't heard any complaints.

Nico loiters around camp the next day, waiting for Percy to emerge. He doesn't. No one seems too surprised not to see the son of Poseidon, and there isn't one mention of his absence all day. Nico even tries to talk to Chiron about it over dinner, but the centaur just averts his eyes and deflects all questions. The daylight flies by like it always does for Nico, just the time between nights, and soon it is dusk again, and he is outside the Poseidon cabin.

It takes him nearly a half hour to knock. Before Nico has enough time to feel appropriately pathetic, the apparently unlocked door swings open.

Nico peers inside the cabin. None of the lanterns are lit, but he can see an empty, unmade bed in the fading sunlight. He steps inside, breathing deeply despite himself, feeling the sea air wash over his skin. It makes him calm and tense all at the same time, but before he can berate himself properly, a figure appears from the back room of the cabin.

"Nico?"

He can never help the impulse to stare at Percy, though thankfully most people seem to assume it was a prolonged glower. It doesn't sink in until now how long it has been since he's seen the boy, man really, and yet how perfectly his image is etched into his mind. Tall, with long legs and broad shoulders, strong, looming half a head over him, just radiating power and promise.

But when Nico meets his eyes, all preconceptions of Percy Jackson fly from his mind, because this is someone entirely new.

It is clear he hasn't slept, at least in the past 48 hours. There are dark rings around his eyes, and his angular face looks gaunt and tired. He is the picture of unkempt, orange t-shirt wrinkled, hair too long and in his eyes. But when Nico finally makes eye contact, he can't help but take a step back, because this is Percy like he's never seen him. This man is tortured.

"Nico..." his voice rasps, and Nico feels the desperation wash over him like a stifling lack of wind on a becalmed ship.

"Percy," Nico can never seem to stop his voice from catching on the name, but he perseveres. "What's going on?"

Percy steps forward, shaking a little like someone who hasn't slept for so long they've come around full circle from tired to manic. It's a state Nico is very familiar with.

"What are you doing here?"

"Annabeth sent me."

"Annabeth is gone."

Nico frowned, "What do you mean, gone?"

"She… left."

That wasn't really the vibe Nico got from her the night before, but he keeps quiet. Percy holds his gaze, coming further out of the shadows, and Nico wonders in the back of his mind if this is how he himself looks all the time. If it is, as he suspects, it's no wonder no one will talk to him.

"Why are you here, Nico?"

Nico swallows nervously. Percy is getting closer to him. Why is he here, again?

"I, um… Annabeth wanted me to talk to you. She seemed upset. She said something was wrong, that I would understand."

Percy is already shaking his head, but his next words don't match his expression.

"I haven't seen you in a while… Really, not since the final battle. That was the last time we… _talked_."

Nico feels a lump in his throat, making it difficult to swallow. Percy is right in front of him now, looking down, green eyes completely wrecked, and Nico knows, knows exactly, if not why, how he is feeling, because it is exactly how he feels every day.

Like he has absolutely nothing left to lose.

"Was it true?"

"What?"

"What you said, was it true?"

"I say a lot of things, Percy. Most of them aren't true."

Percy scoffs, an unnatural laugh that holds none of his usual humor or mirth.

"That's a lie, on both counts." A pause, and then, "Was it true, what you said. That you _loved_me."

Oh, the interminable silence. There is something in Percy's voice, though, something about the way he says the word, that grates against Nico's brain. _Loved_, like it is preposterous, like who could love Percy Jackson? For some reason, Nico feels a sudden rush of anger at being questioned, and it may make his next words a bit more honest than originally planned.

"Who said anything about past-tense_,_ you fucking idiot."

Percy had been staring at the floor, but his eyes snap to Nico's, like this is the last thing he'd expected to hear, like nothing had prepared him, even though it really hadn't been that long ago, Nico shouting it in his face in the midst of a war, before stomping off to get himself killed.

Percy is right up in his space now, not touching, but breathing the same air in a way Nico is all too aware of.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why do you love me."

It is more of a statement than a question, but Nico answers him anyway, with the same blunt, occasionally tactless way he tends to say everything.

"It'd be faster to list the reasons that I shouldn't-"

And Percy's mouth is on his. Nico almost definitely makes some sort of horrific squeaking noise, but there is no time to process it, no time to feel the burning heat of someone else's lips, no chance to process the calloused hands on his face, because his fight-or-flight reflex is on, and with Percy, well, there is only ever one choice.

Nico panics and staggers back, out of contact. He feels a strong hand close on his wrist before he even sees Percy's eyes shatter completely.

"Wait!"

And then he freezes.

Later, he would compare it to firm grip closing off his windpipe, except it extended to every inch of his body. The gravity of a thousands worlds was pulling him down, crushing him into a diamond, and yet he could not collapse. Suddenly he could feel everything, and move nothing. The still air gusted against his eyes, but he could not blink, pushed at his lungs, but he could not inhale, dried his mouth, but he could not swallow. He could hear energy, the hearts of every living thing beating, because the sound of his own life had stopped completely.

Later, Nico would describe this feeling. But then, in that infinite second, all he is capable of is the complete and all consuming panic of knowing your blood has stilled in your veins. He feels his heart struggle in his chest to move the fluid-turned-stone around it, and listens to his cells scream for oxygen, running out in three… two… one…

And then the universe lets go, and he crumples.

"Oh gods… Nico… _Nico_…"

Percy's voice is drowned out by the roar in his ears and the sound of his knees hitting the stone floor of the cabin. He collapses, barely catching himself on his palms, and buckling under the sudden weight. The feeling like your throat expanding after being choked to the point of suffocation rolls throughout every inch of his vasculature, a torrent of pressure, his own blood was a waterfall in his ears. His head feels like it's going to explode into a new universe, and then, face to the floor, his lungs jump start, he chokes on his own breath, and it is over.

Still, he feels it is fair that he took his time getting up. Slowly, he rolls onto his back and hacks a few breaths. He experimentally wiggles his fingers and toes, both checking for function and indulging in the motion. Finally, he pulls himself upward, and tilts his head up to see Percy, towering over him, arm still outstretched.

When Nico reaches up to take his hand, Percy staggers backward, almost falling, completely across the small room.

"_Don't touch me_."

The words are a scream and a whisper all together. Percy collapses onto his bed when his knees hit, hands clenching against the frame, chest heaving. His eyes are wild with panic.

Nico stands, bracing himself against the footboard, feeling about a thousand times more tired than he had on any of his accidental shadow trips to China. He sighs deeply, and it makes his heart ache.

"I see."

Percy shuts his eyes, and Nico sees the tears, falling in familiar, well-traced patterns down his face.

"When did you figure it out?"

Percy just shakes his head, but Nico slowly moves towards him, like he is a spooked animal in a corner. The older boy throws up his hand, and Nico curses himself as his body instinctively flinched away. This is not the time to show fear. For once, he does understand, he is in exactly the right place at the right time, and he might be the only person alive who can help.

He asks again, trying to be firm but kind, a level of verbal delicacy he doesn't usually indulge in. "Tell me, Percy. When?"

"Tartarus," Percy whispers.

Nico nods, unsurprised. "Tell me," he repeats, softer.

He watches as his friend curls inward, head to his hands. "It was… towards the end. After the curses, the swamp. A-Annabeth and I, we found Misery, for the Death Mist. She… the goddess, she wouldn't help. She attacked me, flooded the ground with poisons, like a lake, and I felt the water in them…"

Nico kneels at his friend's feet, nodding, trying not to shudder at the proximity. Percy continues, his voice even softer.

"So I forced them back at her, and the fumes, they were burning the air. Her eyes started to water, and her nose, and I realized… I realized I could…"

He looks up, with a face that could haunt a ghost.

"I choked her. On her own snot and tears and spit. I forced them back into her eyes and lungs, and she retched and gagged. I could tell, I knew if I pushed just a little more, I could make her eyes explode, I could drain her completely. I _wanted_to. And Annabeth… Annabeth… she stopped me. She told me to stop, but her eyes, I could see, she was so afraid, not of Misery, but of… me."

Nico nods, but he knows there is more. Unbidden, just the tips of his fingers trace the loose denim of Percy's jeans. His hand travels up, undetected, until suddenly his hand is on his friend's knee, thumb just hooking around the back, just but not quite holding, and Percy's eyes are boring into his, looking so afraid, so broken, and so hopeful at the same time, that Nico's hand shake.

"And then what."

Percy exhales and Nico realizes he hadn't been breathing.

"And then… the war. Distracting. I forgot, but I didn't… not really. It was like someone opened a floodgate in my brain. The water. The feeling… that everything is just… water. I couldn't make myself forget."

"And then, months later. I was asleep, and Annabeth was here… and I was dreaming. Of that day, below Rome, of holding her, of being the only connection between her at the blackness of the pit. Of gripping her wrist so tightly, of needing to never let go, and knowing that the only option was falling."

Nico hangs his head, not wanting to remember, but unable to stop. That day, the worst day, looking into Percy's eyes and seeing him make the choice, with no hesitation, to fall, to be with her, and seeing him disappear into the dark.

"I don't know why I woke up, but when I did, it was to her eyes, wide in fear, and her frozen body. I realized I had been _holding_her, all of her, her veins, her cells, and I let go, I don't know how, but I did. But the feeling, the knowledge of what I had done, what I could do. It wouldn't go away."

"It got worse, and worse. Happened more often. She refused to give up, to stop touching me, but it wasn't just in dreams, whenever we'd touch, and I'd think of losing hold, it would happen again, and again… And I could tell, she was so scared, and that just made it worse…"

Percy looks up, his eyes bright and wet.

"And now she's gone."

Nico grips his leg, just slightly harder, "Percy, she loves you."

"I couldn't… I _wouldn't_touch her, not for weeks-"

"Did you for one second consider maybe _that _was why she left?"

Percy's eyes harden, but Nico leans back on his heels, raking his free hand through his hair. His mind is racing.

"She must've guessed. Annabeth would've figured it out, the connection. She knew about me. That's why she came to me, the last resort."

"What do you mean, came to you?"

"Percy, give me your hand."

Percy starts to shake his head, so Nico grabs the arm that was pressed to the bedspread. Long fingers close around the wrist, pulling it between them.

"Open your palm."

Slowly, Percy unfurls his clenched fist. Nico slides his hand along Percy's, mirroring their fingers. Where they touch it felt like his skin is burning. Nico closes his eyes, trying to focus. It's hard with Percy so close, touching him, breathing the same air, and yet, easier, because after all, this is the boy that started it all in the first place.

He feels, more than hears, Percy's gasp, the sudden patch of air missing from the room. He opens his eyes, and watches as Percy's fingers slowly bend, one by one, in a wave, up and down, left and right. The rest of the older boy's body vibrates, just slightly, but just his fingers flutter, in quick, jolts of movement. Like a puppet.

Nico exhales, and Percy's arm drops to his lap, free from the invisible grip. Nico heaves great breaths, feeling light headed.

Percy flexes his fingers, grimacing with was Nico knows is a dull ache, "What… what was that."

"Remember, thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return."

Percy deadpans, "That's an odd sentiment for a time like this."

"Relevant, though. The Christians got some things right. Bones are just stone, Percy. Skeletons, just minerals, like rock. Eventually, everything is earth, and earth is everything. I was never sure, but I suspect this might be part of being a child of the Big Three. The gods said it, we're too powerful, but I don't think it's about moving stones or oceans. I think it was because of this. Because of what we can do."

Nico takes Percy's hand from his lap, just holding it in his palms.

"It takes special circumstances, to realize it. A type of person. The implications, it doesn't just happen on accident. You have to want it. There has to be no other choice. You and I, we're the same. There's a darkness… not bad, just, complex. Another level, deeper than other people have. It's how we survive, how we can always do what it takes to keep going, even at great cost. So, we have that capacity, but it has to awaken. At some point, we have to call it."

For a second, he thinks Percy might protest. That they aren't the same. Percy is good, pure, and Nico is… not. But they both know the truth, what is under the surface. It takes a certain mind to take this control.

"When?"

Nico frowned, "What?"

Percy swallowed, "When did you find out? When did it start?"

Nico actually finds himself smiling, and from the look on Percy's face, the smile is more than slightly manic. Probably not the expected expression, or the one that is appropriate, but for some reason, Nico cannot stop himself.

"Styx. I found out at the Styx."

"When…?"

Nico raises an eyebrow, not quite repressing a crazy laugh, "When do you think?"

"The Mark of Achilles?"

"How do you think you got back to the surface?"

Percy's brow furrows, and Nico knows he is thinking of that day, when he risked his life on the suggestion of a boy who not an hour earlier sold him out just for the chance of a pat on the head from a god.

Nico feels a blush rise on his cheeks, thinking of how he reached out into the dark waters of the Styx with his mind, looking for the boy below the surface, and how he needed him to live through this, need him to live at all, and knew he wasn't going to make it, wasn't going to resurface, and it was so impossible to even consider that option that he found himself finding the bones inside the boy and pulling them back to the surface, fortunately along with the rest of him. How, after everything, it didn't even matter that the boy survived the curse thanks to his beautiful, blonde best friend, because he would've never lived to tell her about it if it hadn't been for Nico.

He is inordinately and irrationally pleased to realize Percy is thinking along the same lines.

Percy clears his throat, "Well, um… thank you. I would've thanked you earlier, you know, but I didn't… didn't know it was you, really. You all along. I think I should've known but… I didn't."

Just like everything Percy ever didn't know. Maybe he should've, but he didn't. Nico's blush thickens, so he covers it like he always does. With sarcasm.

"Hey, don't be too grateful. It wasn't an entirely selfless act."

"How do you mean?"

Nico sighs, "Percy, in Tartarus, when you fought Misery, what made you realize you could control the water in her body? What pushed you to that point?"

"I… I was desperate-"

"Yes, but _why_?"

"Because… because it couldn't end like that. Me, and Annabeth, we couldn't be done. There was supposed to be so much more for us, for her, and I just, I would've done anything, literally _anything_, any horrible, twisted thing to make it not be the end. No line I wouldn't have crossed, to not have to give that all up. Even if what I had to do meant it would never be the same."

"Well, now you know why I saved you from the Styx. Though, all things considered, you're lucky I didn't rip you apart."

Percy goes quiet, and Nico knows he is considering the possibility, of all the ways this sort of thing could go so horrifically wrong, because that was Nico's first try on a living being, and it certainly hadn't always gone that well. Percy is probably thinking about how he felt after he got out of the river, and Nico supposes it was a good thing his skin had been so burnt, because he never realized several of his ribs were cracked.

"Hey, all's well that ends well, right?"

"That was pretty intellectual for you, Shakespeare." Percy almost smiles at this, so Nico pushes his luck. "But, yes, I like to think so. Though, you might want to try applying that to you and Annabeth."

Percy stiffens, "I can't. All I can think is how close I was, to holding too tightly and just, just _crushing_ her."

"Actually, it's more likely for the water to flash boil under the increased pressure and-"

For once, Nico thinks to catch himself, but he might as well not have for the look Percy is giving him. It's too unthinkable for him, apparently, because his face goes blank quickly. Nico wishes, not for the first time, that his imagination wasn't so vivid.

"How did you learn? To control it? Have you… tried it, since?"

Nico scoffs. "'Course I have. I'm not as good of a person as you. Though, not as often as I might've, considering it's a fail-proof counter attack. It's a little… a little _personal_, holding someone that way, as you might've noticed."

He doesn't mention, now having been on the receiving end, how he finds it about a thousand times more violating, but he's pretty sure Percy has already figured that out, because he's not really as slow as everyone jokes, and he's blushing profusely.

"You have to practice, Percy. I know it sounds fucked up, but you have to use it, to learn. You have to _touch_."

"Is that what you did?"

Another bitter laugh, "You're kidding, right? Who would let me touch them? I used animals, mostly. Couple of unfortunate accidents…" he sees Percy grimace, and rolls his eyes, "Not suggesting that you should, of course. Not really your style, still too far down the psychopath road."

"So, who then? I am not telling anyone else. And there is no way I'm asking Annabeth to let me practice freaking _blood control_or whatever the fuck on her…"

Percy looks like he actually might be sick, and Nico decides not to point out that if he had better control of this power he could actually stop that from happening.

"No, don't be stupid. I said she loved you, not that she wasn't terrified. No, too much risk there, you're too emotional."

"So, who, then?"

Nico stares at him flatly, "Well, me, obviously."

Percy immediately starts sputtering, which would've probably been cute if it wasn't so ridiculous.

"W-what? You, how can I possibly… you felt what just happened, how are you volunteering for this? What if you, fuck, _boil_or whatever, I couldn't… I think I'm going to be ill…"

Nico brushes him off, "Don't see what other option you have. You don't want to tell anyone else, you can't hurt Annabeth, but you need to figure this out or you're never touching anyone again."

"Who says I can hurt _you_?"

Nico gives him a withering look, and ignores this comment.

"I'm more durable than I look. In the beginning, it only works under high stress anyway, when you're a little out of control, and since it's already gone off on me once…"

Half-way through this thought, Nico realizes what he's suggestinh. Though, he supposes, it is more than a suggestion. Percy already lost control with him, when Nico was pulling away, and Percy wanted him to stay. _Needed_him to, apparently. He hadn't thought about it until now, too busy trying to talk Percy off the ledge, but so far, the only people able to illicit this kind of response from Percy were Annabeth… and the only living son of Hades.

"Percy…" Nico askes very quietly, not trusting his voice, but now he needs to know. What exactly, he isn't quite sure, but he needs it.

"Do… do I stress you out that much?"

Percy sighs deeply and yet Nico feels no decrease in tension.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Why?"

"I just… I scared you earlier, I made a mistake. I don't know what I was thinking…"

Nico feels his heart preparing to break in ways he didn't even know were still possible, but Percy catches his slip.

"No, not like that. Not a mistake. I just… I _know_you. Things haven't exactly been perfect between us, but you're my friend, and I know you. I know better than to just… touch you without asking, or at least, without being very careful. I just wasn't thinking, and when you moved back, I just panicked, and I needed to make up for forgetting, I needed you to stay and let me try again, to do it right, and… well, you know what happened. I'm so sorry."

Nico is silent for a full minute, processing what's just been said.

"It's um… okay. I was just, surprised, I guess. No one um, ever touches me, and it felt like it wasn't real, and you were just scared and I could've been anyone-?"

Percy doesn't let him get any farther. "It isn't like that, Nico."

Nico raises an eyebrow, "No? And does Annabeth have anything to say about this?"

Percy laughs, and Nico hearr the real Percy in it, fighting to get through.

"Really? Does Annabeth have anything to say about my confusing feelings towards Nico di Angelo while I'm losing control and grabbing people's bodily fluids with my psycho big three powers? No, I don't think she does. Actually, she came to get you, and it isn't like she doesn't know, she pried it out of me and I didn't leave anything out. She understands everything, you know? Even when I don't. Especially when I don't."

There is such love in his eyes, in his voice, but for the first time in Nico's life, it doesn't make his heart ache. At least, not in an entirely unpleasant way.

Nico moves from sitting back on his heels to kneeling, eyes just below Percy's. The motion brings him between the older boy's knees, and Nico hesitates for a moment, hands clasped behind his neck. What he is about to do, it isn't exactly his _forte,_ but it is all too clear what Percy needs right now. He imagines Annabeth, coming to the same realization, and being unable to touch him, too logical to throw herself into danger like that. Nico knows at some point he'll have to find away to get her to stop hating herself, but right now, well, his complete lack of self-preservation is his best attribute.

That, and his unconditional, involuntary obsession with Percy Jackson.

He untwines his fingers, slowly lowering his hands, until they slide along the sides of Percy's waist, just resting there. Nico frowns. He's touched Percy before, usually when his friend is in the process of stopping Nico from falling on his face from exhaustion, and he swears the boy used to be a bit more substantial.

"Percy…"

"I know, I know. I just, for a while it seemed like maybe if I was weaker, physically weak, it wouldn't happen…" and then, more of a breath than words, "Nico, what… what are you doing?"

"Shh. I'm concentrating." He shuffles forward, closer, imperceptibly firming his grasp on the narrow waist between his palms. Percy's face is very, very close to his now, looking down, and Nico stares at his eyelids and wonders what is it that makes it impossible not to know when someone is looking at your mouth.

"O-on what?"

"You. I've only had about a million hours to think about what I'm about to do, but with the exception of that misguided attempt earlier, I've never gotten the chance. I'd like to get it right."

"You mean… that was… I was your first…?"

"Yeah. Now, in the interest of me not totally botching this, please shut up."

And he tilts his chin up just enough to press his lips to Percy's.

For the second time this evening, Nico feels like his heart has stopped (though, he supposes, the first time it actually did). He doesn't move, doesn't do anything but apply gentle pressure with his mouth, because this could all go very, very wrong, but it might not, and he really wants it not to. His hands are shaking, there's a distinct lump in his throat, but he doesn't give in, because after a lifetime of seconds, Percy rasps against his mouth.

"Nico, _please_."

Apparently, Percy can no longer wait for whatever he wanted, because Nico feels, for the second time, two rough hands framing his face. Now, they are gloriously accompanied by fingers threading through his hair, pulling his mouth upwards, tilting his head to make the perfect slant for their mouths to fit together, and now he's kissing, and being kissed, and his hands are gripping Percy tighter, unable to hold back because yeah, he might die at any moment, might boil from the inside out, but what else is new, that's all fine, because _finally_.

His fingers dig in, maybe to stop the shaking, maybe to hold on. He forgets that this all might be happening right now because Percy occasionally and involuntarily latches onto the 60% of your body that's water and might not let go. He ignores that this, this is the very time that it is most likely to happen, because really, it's only if he pulls away, and for the first time in his life, Nico has no urge to be anywhere else. He kisses Percy harder, taking control, and this isn't exactly how he always imagined this going, but this is what needs to happen. Percy needs someone to touch him and not be afraid. Nico lets his lips part, sweeps his tongue gently into Percy's mouth when he follows suit, and catches the tiniest of moans, and oh gods Percy actually just made that noise. Percy, who is pulling him closer, whose chest is now pressed against his, and the stone floor might be shifting under his knees. That's okay though, because he's pushing up and letting himself be pulled closer, until they've tipped back onto Percy's bed and Nico is flush against him, on top of him, supporting himself as he feels Percy's hands race down his back, pressing into his skin. Their teeth clack, which is fantastic because now Percy's tongue is in his mouth and he tastes salty in a way that is a little like the ocean and a lot like warm, eager boy. It's exactly right, and Nico shifts up to get more, and that moves his hips forward and gods of Olympus where are his hips because they cannot possibly be where he thinks they are.

It's a good thing Percy pulls back, because Nico would prefer not to provoke his more unsettling powers right now but he's still Nico and it's still a lot of a new type of touching for him to process. He sighs in relief (and a little frustration) at the reprieve and tilts his forehead against Percy's, both of them just breathing against each other, a little unwilling to disengage but too nervous to continue.

"Sorry, Percy, I just… I'm, you know, _new_ at this…"

Percy laughs, right against his mouth, and Nico is pretty sure his lips just cracked because he cannot remember the last time he smiled like this.

"Don't apologize, Nico, sheesh. You think I'm not?"

"Well, I mean, you and Annabeth…"

"Really, are we going to need to talk right now about how touching you is not even kind of like touching Annabeth?"

It's hard for Annabeth's name to cause him its usual pang when he's lying on top of her boyfriend with his dignity very nearly in shreds. Nico actually hears himself laugh in a way that is not entirely unlike a giggle.

"I guess not. Still, I know it's pretty, uh, lame I guess. To be 17 and not have any idea what you're-"

Percy doesn't let him finish, pulling his mouth back down to shut him up before he says whatever inane thing was going through his mind. Clearly, it wasn't nearly as important as kissing, as letting Percy roll him sideways, guide him so they're on the bed the right way, somehow managing to never disengage mouths. And this, _this_is how Nico imagined it, when he let himself, imagined the most wonderful thing that could never possibly happen to him. Imagined Percy gripping his waist, holding him in place, exactly where he wants him which is as close as possible, where all Nico can do is cling to the orange t shirt and know that he's succeeded. Just right now, it's his victory, because Percy isn't thinking about how he's becoming a monster from his nightmares and how he's a danger to everyone he loves, he's only thinking about kissing Nico as thoroughly and perfectly as possible. Nico can feel the part of him designated for happiness shudder to life, rusty from disuse, and yeah, it hurts, his heart is racing and sore and abused, but it's moving.

It's all worth it, because today, and maybe tomorrow, and hopefully the next day, Nico gets to fix what's broken. He gets to save everyone. He gets to win.

Sometime later, Percy pulls away, breathing hard, and his face is so wrecked in the most wonderful way. Somehow he's smiling at the same time.

"You are not _lame_, Nico di Angelo. You are astounding. And, if you say I need to practice, I need to practice. If you say I can do this, well, I believe you. I trust you."

Nico grins, and it's a smirk and indulgent and (Percy thinks) actually pretty sexy because he's so in his element right now and that happens to be all wrapped around Percy in his bed.

"I say you can do this."


End file.
